


it’s all fun and games until

by takajima



Series: 12 Days of Ficmas (2014) [2]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Other, many people die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:56:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takajima/pseuds/takajima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chinen likes to think he has the best of both worlds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it’s all fun and games until

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dusk037](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dusk037/gifts).



> [12 Days of Ficmas – Day 4] giftfic for [](http://dusk037.livejournal.com/profile)[dusk037](http://dusk037.livejournal.com/), I really hope you like this! Four is my favourite number so I figured I might just go and have all the fun in the world writing this one. This fic is kind of my baby and a massive thank you to [](http://xingphonic.livejournal.com/profile)[xingphonic](http://xingphonic.livejournal.com/) for looking through this with me ♡

  
  
The thing about bombs is that skill and luck both matter.

While Chinen may have all the skills he needs; he just isn’t so lucky this time.

 

 

The buzzing in his head takes over the silence, and the boy is careful not to say more than a mere grunt when the people come to check if he’s alive.

They leave him be after checking his temperature, pulling the curtains shut and allowing the boy to shiver in the darkness, alone.

 

 

He freezes when they yank his curtains open once again, shining a bright light on his face. The boy doesn’t even bother to squint, keeping his eyes shut as the light dusts over his face and onto his wounds.

“Name?”

At this, the boy snaps his eyes open in absolute panic. “Who am—I don’t remember.” His voice is tight and hopeless, evoking pitiful sighs around him, and someone even calls for the head doctor to seek help.

The boy doesn’t move much, continuing to stare at nothing in particular as what is left of the team stares at him.

 

 

As footsteps approach, the boy screams out in pain, clutching his head.

“Mo—” a single syllable slips from his lips, sounding more strained than ever.

“Morimoto,” he gasps, after a few laboured breaths. “Where is he?” He asks, but his voice carries a sense of urgency, as he grips the arm of the person nearest to him.

“I need to find Morimoto Ryutaro.”

The head doctor locks eyes with the boy.

Within two hours, Chinen Yuri is out of the hospital.

 

 

Chinen is in a good mood; he just ditched the cast his arm was in this morning. The burns from the bomb explosion are possibly one of his worst injuries ever, taking him three whole days to nurse his left arm to a functioning state.

His phone rings and he has a semi-freakout because he’s very sure he did not buy any new beeping devices in the last three months. It takes him a while to find his phone, buried under a pile of documents in an unnamed drawer he guesses are full of files that the police require/have entrusted to him??

“Chi-san?” The voice on the other end is almost buried beneath the static, with it being in the basement.

“Keito-chan!” He exclaims loudly, hoping that the bad connection will not spare Officer Okamoto from the embarrassment. Okamoto once mentioned that one of his colleagues thought that Chinen was a whore, and he thought the idea of it was absolutely hilarious. “What do you need from me today, darling?”

He can already hear Okamoto blushing, as the faint shuffle of paper filters through the speakers.

“I need you to help me look for a man.”

 

 

Okamoto isn’t the only police officer in contact with him, there’s Head Officer Yaotome as well, although that one rarely calls unless he’s pressed for time. None of them know what his real name is, both refering to him as Chi-san, although he has insisted for three whole years for them to call him Chi-sama, but they never listen.

No, Chinen isn’t a secret agent working for the police. Chinen doesn't work for anyone but himself, and he takes pride in that. He just helps people when he feels like it, and he knows how important it is to have the law on his side.

Chinen likes to think he has the best of both worlds.

 

 

“Here are the files you requested for, sir.” His assistant is a beautiful woman who appears to be of the same age, but Chinen doesn't trust her. The contents of the files are organised in a way only Chinen can decipher, even though he is confident that no one else can get access to these files.

It seems like Chinen’s instincts were right; he smirks, when he notices the all too familiar gleam of silver.

Two can play the game, Chinen thinks, until the other is dead.

 

 

“Were you always this much of a compulsive liar around me or was this your way of showing me your true colours?” His eyes are cold as he twirls his handgun around his finger at an attempt to be casual, but the psychotic smirk he wears paints him as more of a madman.

The fear in his former assistant’s eyes is evident, but Chinen pays no mind to it, continuing. “I wanted information, you know?” He takes a step forward, lacing her fingers with his. He knows that this only intensifies her fear, and that she wants nothing but to bolt.

It isn’t as if there’s anywhere else she can go, he muses, holding their interlaced fingers a little closer for inspection, before yanking the all-too-familiar ring off her finger.

She visibly winces, and lets her hand fall limp to the side as he lets go.

Chinen momentarily contemplates giving her one last smile, but decides against it, letting the ring fall onto the ground. “But it seems like you wanted information from _me_ too,” he whispers, moving to crush the voice-recording band with his heel and nodding contentedly as he hears the telltale snap.

Satoshi screeches at the woman, already ready to pounce.

“Down girl,” he hisses, and the snake hisses back, curling around his neck protectively.

He laughs dryly as her eyes go wide. “You think I never noticed? Newsflash, princess, I invented it.”

“We can’t always get what we want,” he sighs, lifting the gun once more, to point at the woman he once thought he could love. She was beautiful, even while terrified, but Chinen knows that he isn’t capable of giving his heart to her.

Not when it’s been given to someone he can never see again.

“But I will _always_ get what I want.”

With that, he pulls the trigger.

 

 

“Yoshida?”

“No one ever suspects me, that’s why I’m your man to get the job done,” Chinen brags, and he hears Nakajima chuckle over the phone. This is another phone, one with his high school contacts, who are convinced that his name is Yoshida Eitarou, heir to a powerful but unknown Yakuza clan.

Chinen supposes he could live with that.

“How did you know what I wanted to ask from you?”

“Word on the street is that you’ve been paying more attention to the lodging records. You have the information I want, so what can I do for you?”

“Nakajima Kento. I want him dead.”

“Send me the records, I’m on it.”

 

 

Chinen blinks as the incessant ringing of his alarm filters through his ears, blaring at him to get up. He likes his job, he really does, it pays well, he has a fancy car, and a basement full of fancy gadgets and weapons to prove it. But the thing Chinen absolutely detests about his job is the odd-working hours.

He has to wake up at 2 in the morning and do stakeouts on four hours of sleep.

This morning, Chinen is feeling particularly ruthless. He hasn’t had the best day, with terrible traffic to start and half a day of welding metals can render a person almost blind.

Yesterday’s kill was not nearly bloody enough for Chinen, leaving him unsatisfied and bored.

He had brought too many cleaning supplies and was distraught when he had nothing to use them for. A fucking waste of effort, to be honest.

Chinen stands in his basement, looking a little lost. It’s not like he’s lost, but he doesn’t have anything to equip himself with.

His walls are decorated with knives of varying lengths, guns of various purposes and even his all-time favourite, the poison darts, but he isn’t feeling anything today.

Running a finger along the cool metal surface of one of his favourites, the ICHXX129, he sighs again.

Nothing.

His gun isn’t speaking to him, and now he doesn’t have any proper weapon to equip himself with.

What’s left of his sanity tells him that he’s being like a teenage girl picking out an outfit for that day, but it irks him that nothing is speaking to him. It’s essential for them to speak to him, if he’s going to hunt down someone like Nakajima Kento.

The man apparently wanted to rid off Nakajima Raiya, Nakajima Yuto’s brother. Despite the fact that Nakajima Yuto accompanies his father to various events, the real heir to the Nakajima Corp is Nakajima Raiya. Chinen knows how protective Yuto is of his younger brother—they’d gone to the same high school, after all.

All three years of networking in a prestigious definitely paid off, when these powerful rich brats have almost all the information in the world. Nakajima Yuto has access to lodging records in Shizuoka and Chinen needs those for reasons.

 

 

The bullet hits his right arm just as he is about to get the gun away from Nakajima Kento, that fucking bastard.

Chinen retaliates by kicking him in the face, snarling. “I was going to do this the nice way,” he smiles, but it is far from kind, as he pulls out a bottle of poison and a switchblade, “but you leave me with no choice.”

Crack goes Nakajima Kento’s ribcage, followed by a loud bang when Chinen shoots him in the head.

He closes his eyes and takes a second to bask in the glory of a successful kill.

People who fight for power disgust him, Chinen thinks, as he slits the wrists of the dead Nakajima Kento before he deems his job done.

He takes the time to write out “I Love New York” in his blood, just to be a brat.

 

 

The ointment is cooling to the surface of his shoulder, and Chinen watches with crazy interest as his skin starts to patch itself together, forcing the bullet out.

He keeps the bullet as a souvenir.

Chinen stretches a little when his skin starts feeling tingly, careful not to strain the newly healed skin. He vaguely remembers seeing something like this in a movie, but Chinen scoffs, taking pride in how his invention was long before the production of the movie.

Plus, his creation can fucking reject bullets. That’s a thousand times cooler than some fictional ointment in a lame book. What was it called again? The starving games? What kind of game lets people starve?

Nakajima Kento was a difficult target, Chinen admits to that. Too much security, given how paranoid the man was. Even had a gun strapped in his coat. Too bad the prick didn’t have any idea how to use it at all.

 

 

Life without an assistant is hard, Chinen muses, but it feels like the good old days.

He sits in front of his six monitors as he types away furiously, numbers and alphabets running across his head as he swings his feet freely from the revolving chair.

He feels his nose itch; scrunching it up in frustration, but the itch doesn't abate.

Chinen sighs, reaching up to scratch his nose with his left hand, right hand still typing away.

That felt better, he thinks, returning back to his keyboard and then it hits him like a brick.  
He sneezes, and it’s so violent his hands jerk and a bunch of unidentified characters appear on his screen.

“Fuck my life.”

 

 

“Chiba Yudai must die,” Chinen reads from the fax, sniggering.

At least this client has a sense of humour.

 

 

He hates the man already.

Of all things, Chiba Yudai is addicted to the wilderness.

The fact that he is making Chinen go through all this extra activity makes Chinen want to end his life immediately. The sooner he dies, the sooner Chinen can go back to take a nap.

The only upside about this whole trip to the woods is that Chinen gets to take Satoshi along. It gets lonely sometimes.

 

 

They wait till dusk before they take action, after Chiba Yudai has set up his tent in a small clearing among the dense forest.

The sound of the tent unzipping is clear to anyone who might be listening, echoing through the woods.

“Go,” Chinen whispers, petting Satoshi on the head.

Satoshi doesn’t need to be told twice.

 

 

Just when Satoshi has wrapped herself around the man’s leg, the man lets out an ear-splitting scream, pulling something out of his pocket. Chinen’s eyes go wide when he sees that it is a blade that slices right through the middle of Satoshi and all her internal wires.

Chinen winces. He’s going to have some repairing to do.

Satoshi barely flinches, reconnecting herself in a mere two seconds and going straight for the man’s neck. The man, paralysed by the fact that the mechanical snake can re-connect itself, doesn’t move an inch, making the job ten times faster.

Chinen giggles when the he hears the melodious crack of the man’s neck being broken; hopping off the branch he’d been perched on the entire time.

 

 

By the time Chinen arrives at the body, it seems like Satoshi had stabbed him in the chest as well with her tail.

He watches with morbid fascination as Satoshi circles the dead body in pride, blood coming out in spurts from the gaping wounds.

“Let’s go home?”

Satoshi almost purrs, curling up on his shoulder and head-butting Chinen affectionately.

He makes a mental note to call Okamoto to let him know that the dude, who was charged with repeated offences of theft but somehow escaped, is now dead. The police department are not the ones who will miss him much, anyway.

 

 

For him, Chinen could care less about the risks of using his real name.

He is special.

“This is Chinen Yuri.” It feels weird to have his name uttered by a complete stranger, especially after all those years spent hiding his identity.

The man in front of him bows.

“Morimoto Ryutaro, a pleasure to meet you.”

He doesn’t remember him.

It is a struggle for Chinen to keep the polite smile on his face as he takes Ryutaro's hand in his for the very last time.

“Chinen Yuri, your wedding planner.”

 

 

_“the people who care about you will always come and get you.”_  
 _–Takano Kyohei (Yamato Nadeshiko Shichi Henge)_  
 ~~ _even if you don’t need them anymore_~~

  


**Author's Note:**

> [Day 3](http://plainlystars.livejournal.com/7750.html) ♡


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